


Driving With You

by MaggieMaybe160



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Driving, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Dean Winchester, M/M, Non-Human Impala (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, POV First Person, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/pseuds/MaggieMaybe160
Summary: You know that feeling? The one you get when you look down and see the speedometer climbing effortlessly under your foot’s idle insistence, the engine humming with your heart as you slip past 100? You had been on a hill, looking upward, your foot pressed down, and somehow you forgot to let up when you began the descent. You hadn’t meant to go that fast, but here you are with the scenes outside going by too quickly, and you can’t be bothered because you’re in the car with him.





	Driving With You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderful [nickelkeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep) for the beta!

You know that feeling? The one you get when you look down and see the speedometer climbing effortlessly under your foot’s idle insistence, the engine humming with your heart as you slip past 100? You had been on a hill, looking upward, your foot pressed down, and somehow you forgot to let up when you began the descent. You hadn’t meant to go that fast, but here you are with the scenes outside going by too quickly, and you can’t be bothered because you’re in the car with him. 

How about the sound of his rushing wings and your heart beating so loudly that you’re sure everyone can hear it too? The sound of his feathers against the air, announcing his arrival is as sweet to me at the sound of my car’s engine purring, and that sound used to be the only one that had ever been able to calm me before. 

I look to the mirror, and I see him, sitting in the backseat as if he had been there the entire time. He looks as if he were made to sit in my car with me as I speed down empty roads, but I remember a time when he didn’t. I’m not sure when that changed. 

The music playing on the radio fills the car, and I move to turn it down because I’d rather listen to him. I want to hear his deep voice mixing with the sounds of the engine as the wheels on the pavement. I want to hear him say my name. 

“Dean.”

I’m not driving. I open my eyes and see the smooth ceiling of the inside of my car. The engine is making my favorite noise that accompanies speed. I feel light-headed and don’t understand why I’m lying here on the backseat instead of driving. When did that change?

My eyes fall to the window. Trees are flying past us, or we’re passing them. Green fills my vision. Green and black. The edges are all fuzzy and dark. My eyelids feel heavy. I feel cold and tired. I want to hear him say my name. 

“Dean.”

My eyes open again, and I’m looking up into the deep blue eyes that I belong to. He doesn’t know. If he does, he doesn’t say a word. If he were mine, I would reach up and stroke his face. I would tell him how beautiful he is in this moment with his hair falling forward as he looks down into my face. I would run my thumb over the worried lines in his face and remind him that everything is fine. 

“Stay awake.” 

There is no music playing. I can only hear the sounds of his voice and the roar of the tires on the road. I don’t mean to let my eyes close, so I open them again. My head has fallen to the side. I realize my head is in his lap, cradled by his hands. 

I cough, my eyes closing. I forget to cover my mouth. I’m too tired to care. I’m too tired to open my eyes again or keep listening. I’m too tired. I will never be too tired for him. He wants me to open my eyes. He wants me to stay awake. I open my eyes. 

“I’m losing him!” 

I don’t realize I’d fallen back asleep until a jolt wakes me. I’m not in my car. I want to go back to my car. There’s a mask over my face and the high tinny sound of small wheels rattling coming from somewhere. I don’t know. 

The mask feels strange. It’s heavy, and I’m floating. It’s the only thing keeping me down. I groan as I lift my arm. My hand falls on my face to swipe the mask off. I can’t understand, but someone is talking. It’s so loud. Please be quiet. Please let me sleep. Please. 

“Dean!” One voice above all the rest. The only voice that matters. 

Am I hurt? Am I in trouble? I don’t feel hurt. I can’t feel any pain. I don’t feel sick. I just feel tired. So tired. My eyelids are too heavy. This damn mask is too heavy. Let me fly. Wait, if I’m not okay, why doesn’t he heal me? Am I okay?

He’s warded against something. He said something like that in the car. It was muffled and far away, but I remember. What is he warded against? Cas? Are you there?

“Dean,” I hear him cry. Do angels cry? Can they cry? Cas. 

I can’t keep my eyes open. I can barely move. The world is slipping away. It’s time to go to sleep. How long have I been awake? I want to go back to my car. I want to feel the pedal under my foot. I want to roll down my window and laugh as the air rushes past me. 

A hand on my face wakes me again. His palm is warm. Why am I so cold? I open my eyes and there he is. Blue eyes behind a screen of tears. I’ve never seen him cry. Even crying he’s beautiful. 

My mouth tastes weird. It tastes like someone filled my mouth with pennies while I was asleep. Weird prank to pull. Where am I? Where’s Baby? I want to be in my car. 

I need to take Cas to see the World’s Biggest Ball of Twine. He will hate it and make that face that he does where his eyebrows draw close, and he squints because why am I doing this to him? It’s the stupid things in life that make it worthwhile. Doing the dumbest shit while your angel rides shotgun. 

Not mine. Never mine. Just Cas. 

“Dean.” I’m awake. Turn the volume down. I love your voice, but it’s so loud. What is that beeping noise? Why is this mask still on my face? Where’s my car? Someone help me. Where am I? 

“Dean, it’s okay. Dean. It’s alright.” Cas. 

Goodnight, Cas. 

You know that feeling? The one where you have an open road to yourself, and you deliberately push past that 100, ready to feel the engine roar beneath you? How about when you realize you don’t remember when you started driving, the thrill and calming nature of driving just taking over for you as you push further and further, driving farther and farther from home? Wherever home is. You know that feeling when you grin because everything feels perfect and you have to share it with him, so you look up into the rearview mirror and… 

Nothing is there. Where is he? The seat next to me is empty too. How long have I been alone? Nevermind. 

You know that feeling? The one where you’ve definitely been on this road for too long and haven’t seen another driver, so you push the pedal into the floor, racing to catch up because surely someone is out there? The one where panic starts to rise in you as you come to the realization that it has been midday for roughly 20 days. The sun is too bright, and the colors are all sharper than they used to be.

The best music in the world is playing on a loop, and I know I’ve seen that bush before. Am I driving in an infinity pool? What the fuck is happening? 

I switch pedals, slamming down on the brakes as I turn the wheel all the way to the left. There is no screech of tires. There is no danger of flipping or crashing. There’s no jolt. There’s no strain on the engine or commotion from any birds that should be living in the trees on the side of this road. I turn off the music and it’s too quiet. There’s no bugs, talking, animals, or distant traffic. There’s nothing. 

“Goodnight, Cas.” I say it out loud and it doesn’t make sense to say. When did I go to sleep? When did I say that? I didn’t say it. I thought it. I thought it as I felt his tears hitting my hand, his lips pressed to my fingers. He kissed my hand? He held my hand? 

I turn on the radio again, but music doesn’t play. A loud beep fills the speakers. It’s drawn out and steady. It sounds like those monitors on those medical dramas. Patient dies and beeeeeeeeep. Wait. No. No. 

I remember my hand above my face right before I tried to take the oxygen mask off. My entire hand had been red and wet. I hadn’t noticed then. Whose blood was it? It couldn’t have been mine. No, no, no. 

I start the car again. The engine is silent as the beep continues. I floor it, but there is no destination. There is no running away from remembering the warded bullets filling my stomach. 

He couldn’t heal me. 

“Cas!” I scream it and feel his name tearing up my insides. This is where he appears with a woosh of wings and says my name. This is where he looks at me like I’m being paranoid and tells me that I would know if I was dead. I do know. Cas.


End file.
